


Holding hands (while the walls come tumbling down)

by jucee



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:36:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1871610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jucee/pseuds/jucee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yashiro has anger management issues, and Shindou hears voices. </p>
<p>They meet on the first day of school, in the principal’s office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding hands (while the walls come tumbling down)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aoigensou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoigensou/gifts).



> Title borrowed from _Everybody Wants to Rule the World_ by Lorde (Tears for Fears).

They meet on the first day of school, in the principal’s office.

Sitting in hard, uncomfortable chairs facing the principal’s desk, they glare warily at each other and ignore the sound of the principal’s voice as it drones on before them. They are angry, defiant, resentful at being forced to be in this place.

They are thirteen.

“...will have to change, do I make myself clear?”

Both boys look up when the stream of words stops, but neither of them have any idea what the principal has said. 

The smaller boy shrugs. The taller boy smirks.

The principal pulls out two boxes of black hair dye from the bottom drawer of his desk and sets one down before each boy with a heavy thump. “By the end of the day,” he warns.

The next morning when they walk into class, the smaller boy still has blond hair, and the taller boy still has grey-white streaks in his spiky hair.

They are sent to the principal’s office again. 

Ten minutes later, they walk out with shaved heads.

* * *

“I’m Shindou Hikaru and I hate this place already,” the smaller boy mutters by way of introduction.

After a long, awkward pause, the taller boy finally replies, “Yashiro Kiyoharu. I hated this place before I even got here.”

“What did you do to get sent here?” Shindou asks. He keeps his hands in his pockets so he won’t feel the urge to run them over his newly-shaved head, which feels weirdly cold.

Yashiro shrugs, a simple motion that looks jerky and almost violent on the boy. “Beat up a guy last year.”

“Yeah? How bad?”

“Just broke his nose. The way they reacted, you’d think I ruptured his kidney or something.” He sounds thoughtful, as if in hindsight he wishes he had aimed lower.

Shindou just hums, and rocks back on his heels slightly with his hands still in his pockets.

Yashiro considers him for a moment, this small boy with a shaved head and a wild gleam in his eyes. Then he grudgingly asks, “What about you?”

Shindou smiles for the first time since he arrived at this place, and says, “I was hearing voices.”

“What kind of voices?”

“I dunno,” Shindou says, shrugging as if it doesn’t matter to him either way. “Just voices. My parents sent me to a psychologist who gave me some pills. They didn’t work but I said they did just to get everyone off my back. But I guess my parents didn’t believe me, ‘cause here I am anyway.”

They stare at each other, still wary but bitterly convinced that they’ll need a friend to survive six more years of this place. 

So they become friends.

* * *

“Hey, Kiyo-tan, guess what?” Shindou says, bounding up to Yashiro’s desk at the back of the classroom.

“Don’t call me that,” Yashiro mumbles without looking up from the homework that’s due in five minutes. He’s not really paying any attention to what he’s writing, but he learned early on that writing something is always better than writing nothing. When Saeki-sensei walks up to you and holds out his hand for your homework, you feel like the scum of the earth if you have nothing to give to him. It’s a weird skill, and Yashiro weirdly respects him for it.

Shindou ignores Yashiro’s mumbling and frantic writing, just like he does every morning, and announces, “Isumi has a porno magazine.”

Pausing, but without looking up, Yashiro says sceptically, “Your goody two-shoes roommate has a porno magazine.”

“I know right,” Shindou says with a laugh, a sharp bright sound that draws everyone’s attention while at the same time causing them to avert their eyes nervously. Despite having been in the same class for almost a year, their classmates still don’t know what to make of Shindou and Yashiro, and the two of them prefer it that way.

“Anyway, come over to my room tonight and check it out. Isumi won’t be there, he’s getting ‘tutored’ by Saeki-sensei again.” Out of the corner of Yashiro’s eye, he can see Shindou making speech marks with his fingers, as if his voice didn’t already indicate what he thinks of Isumi’s late-night tutoring sessions with their handsome and much older teacher.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yashiro says in agreement, and tries not to think too deeply about which one he’s actually more interested in, the magazine itself or Shindou looking at the magazine.

* * *

Shindou goes home the first summer, but Yashiro doesn’t. 

His parents pay a lot of money for him to stay at the mostly empty school, and he makes sure to eat more than his fair share of food and break as many pieces of furniture and walls as he can. He’s a growing boy, after all.

He’s angry and bored, and he’s fourteen.

They never talk about it, but Shindou stays the next summer, and every summer after that.

* * *

They start fucking when they’re fifteen, even though their request to be roommates is turned down yet again by the dorm manager. 

They usually hang out in Shindou’s room since Isumi is always either in the library or getting ‘tutored’, and once Yashiro figures out how to bypass the school’s firewall, they spend a lot of time watching porn. Or rather, Shindou watches porn while critiquing the actors’ techniques with his odd mix of naivety and cynicism, and Yashiro watches him.

Shindou’s hair has grown out from the stubble of their first few months in this place, but his eyes still have that wild look in them that makes Yashiro wonder what he’s really thinking about, if he still hears the voices, if he has any idea what Yashiro is thinking all the time and if he even cares.

Yashiro wants to shove him down and bite at his sharp collarbones, maybe draw blood, make Shindou as hard as he is and rub himself against Shindou’s dick until they both come with their clothes still on.

So one day, he does.

* * *

Gradually, Isumi becomes used to walking into his room to find Yashiro just sitting around naked, or Shindou leaning against the wall with Yashiro on his knees sucking him off, or even Shindou and Yashiro having sex on _his_ bed, though they promised not to do that again after he caught them that one time.

Isumi doesn’t believe them at all, and always makes sure to check his bed for stains before getting in. 

After a while, it’s easier just to find somewhere else to sleep at night.

* * *

Yashiro almost fails the fifth year, due to his preference for sleeping in or smoking behind the groundskeeper’s shed rather than going to class. He still passes all the end-of-year exams, but apparently there are school rules about truancy.

On the last day of term, Shindou disappears for an hour. He comes back with a strange look in his eyes, and says with a casual shrug, “It’s been taken care of.”

Yashiro considers him for a moment, and thinks about punching a hole in the wall. He clenches his fists so hard that his knuckles turn white, but Shindou laughs innocently and says, “Don’t be silly, Kiyo-tan. I just talked to Isumi, and he went to ‘talk’ to the principal.”

Slowly, Yashiro’s fists unclench. He strokes Shindou’s cheek gently, carefully, and Shindou nuzzles into his touch.

They pay Izumi back later that day by ‘talking’ to some classmates of his who had been a bit too friendly. Yashiro makes sure not to break any bones, if only because Shindou would be upset with him if he did.

* * *

One month before graduation, Shindou becomes withdrawn, sullen. He bites at Yashiro’s neck viciously when they fuck, and refuses to look at Yashiro afterward. His eyes still have that gleam, though, and he looks wilder and wilder with each passing day, as if he’s thinking about doing something really crazy.

So Yashiro sits him down, grips his chin with strong fingers that will probably leave bruises on his jaw until Shindou finally looks at him, properly, for the first time in weeks.

“What do you wanna do after graduation?” Yashiro asks simply.

“I dunno,” Shindou mumbles, trying to avert his eyes again and wincing when Yashiro’s grip tightens.

“Where do you wanna go?”

“Away,” Shindou says swiftly, and that’s an answer that has been burning inside both of them for the last six years. They both know that it doesn’t matter where they go, as long as it’s away from their families and away from this place.

“Then let’s go away,” Yashiro says.

* * *

They leave the school the way they arrived: a tall, lanky boy with grey-white streaks in his spiky hair and suppressed violence in every movement of his body, and a smaller boy with blond hair and a wild gleam in his eyes.

They’re holding hands as they walk out, and they never look back.


End file.
